


A Kiss with a Fist is Better than None

by poeticpromise



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Slight Suicide Ideation, Smut, honestly this ended up SO different than it was planned, im so sorry, slight canon tinkering, what is following the actual timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 12:57:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15582498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticpromise/pseuds/poeticpromise
Summary: He had completed his mission, and was left to destruction at the hands of the ones who made him. Now it was a matter of coping with the aftermath of that choice.





	A Kiss with a Fist is Better than None

**Author's Note:**

> HONESTLY this was started with all intention of being a slightly angsty hatefuck fic based after Connor finally accomplished his mission and was decommissioned and replaced with the RK900. I honestly couldn't tell you how or why it turned into this. I'm so sorry.
> 
> Also, I honestly barely proofread it. I spent way too long working on it to even consider trying heavy edits.

The moment you heard Connor wasn’t going to be coming back, you weren’t sure your heart would beat again. Sure, you had seen him come back from death in a brand new body before, but this time, the android that had cut out a soft spot for himself in your chest was gone for good, and all that was left was the aching gap between your ribs, knowing you wouldn’t get to see him again. He wasn’t gone as a result of failure. He was simply  _ obsolete. _

A shiny new model,  _ an upgrade _ , had a new home at the police station. Even if it wore Connor’s face, it wasn’t him. Color aside, his eyes told you whoever,  _ whatever _ , this was wasn’t him. It almost felt mocking, to make him look so much like him. They even tried to tell you he had the same name. The nail in the coffin, to you, that make this imposter worthy of your hate was the first time you were close enough to him to notice they had the gall to give him the exact same pattern of the freckles that you had wanted to badly to gently kiss each of.

A personal insult to anyone who had grown attached to the awkward RK800. 

You found yourself here, anyway.

Your current situation was something you would have never even  _ fantasized _ with Connor. 

He would have never held your hips like this, printless fingers leaving behind purple splotches in a perfect replica of their shape. He would never imagine slammed you against the door of the interrogation room with enough force to shove every ounce of air from your lungs, only to smash his lips to yours before you could even gasp in replacement oxygen. Nails that would never grow would have never scratched at the newly exposed skin as the hem of your shirt rode up in your increasingly compromising position.

You’d have never tried to rip apart his clothes, hands trembling as they groped at every edge of fabric they could find purchase on. You wouldn’t be returning a kiss with a force that made your teeth hit against synthetic ones. Your pulse wouldn’t be pounding like this, with adrenaline pumping through every inch of your body. You skin wouldn’t scream for  _ more _ while your heart pleaded for less.

No, this wasn’t your Connor.

Cathartic would be how your friends would describe it, if you ever spilled this particular sin to them. It’s supposed to be a way to close a chapter that never should have been written in the first place, a form of closure, moving on. You’d be left to nod along, all while wanting to yell how this whole situation was so  _ fucked _ . Connor never should have just been able to taken away and  _ killed _ like a rabid dog. He had only done what they wanted of him, following his orders exactly, but it was no good. He still paid the ultimate price.

And yet, here you were, ready to fuck his  _ clone _ .

The  _ imposter _ lifted you with so much ease, prompting you to lock your legs around his waist. His lips found a new home on your throat, not even bothering to kiss the skin before they parted and his teeth dug in hard  ~~_ not hard enough  _ ~~ over your pulse. The pressure of his hips was more than enough to support your current position, leaving his hands free to roam. 

You couldn’t be bothered to care as the buttons of your uniform were left scattered on the floor as they popped away.  _ Let them know _ . You could be fired when you walked back upstairs, for all it mattered. Right now, you needed  _ this _ so bad, you couldn’t give two shits about a job you used to be so proud to have. They prided themselves on always taking care of their own, but they left Connor to the wolves that took credit for his creation. They may have built his body, but you saw the man he had become on his own.

The only noises that echoed through the room were your own, but it was only fitting, you figured. You might have been the one being abused so deliciously, but you were using him like your own personal toy. You couldn’t begin to care whatever he got out of this.

A cry tore its way out of your throat as he bit down hard enough to make you swear he broke the skin, had it not been for the blood that never came to trickle down to actually prove you wrong.  _ Still not enough _ . It was then that you realized you probably wouldn’t be satisfied until he literally tore you to shreds with his teeth, leaving your outside to reflect the tattered pieces inside the shell you’d become.

_ “Are you going to cry because they threw out the broken toaster, too?” _ Gavin had taunted the morning after CyberLife sent the news. You’d managed to drag yourself into the station so soon, bones too heavy with grief, and he dared to  _ mock you? _ You don’t even know who held you back, and you weren’t aware of how many people it took to pull your flailing body from the cafeteria where he  _ laughed _ .

As you were maneuvered over to lay on the metal table, you caught sight of your reflection in the two way mirror. Your eyes were still swollen with more tears than you could have hoped to keep track of, but the RK900 didn’t care. It certainly didn’t stop him from from leaving a trail of sharp nips down your chest, his hands too nimble in the way they popped open the button on your pants and maneuvered them down your hips for something fresh off the production line.

“Say my name,” he finally said with his mouth just above your navel, even his voice sending chills down your spine at the familiarity despite naturally having a much more commanding tone than Connor ever did, even when he was trying to intimidate a deviant into confessing.

You bit the inside of your cheek until you could only taste iron. You’d rather choke to death than  _ consider _ calling  _ him _ Connor. Such a thought lost most of its weight when you wouldn’t mind death as an alternative to a lot of things right now.

You didn’t even notice that he’d pulled your pants past your ankles as he positioned himself between your thighs, but now you were hyper aware of the fact that the skin on the hands that slid over your waist wasn’t real. Your breath hitched as this thumbs moved in slow circles over the lower set of lips before spreading them to give him a proper view of what awaited him.

“Say it,” he said, voice lower. A warning. Two fingers quickly thrust into you, earning him a strangled moan that melted into a whimper. It took more self control than you even assumed yourself to have to keep yourself relatively quiet as he began pumping the digits at a brutal pace. You felt a flutter in your stomach almost immediately, knowing you wouldn’t last long if he kept  _ this _ up.

The hand that wasn’t violating you slammed down on the table, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Say. My. Name.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at the silvery eyes that were trained on your face, watching as it contorted as you grew closer and closer to your orgasm. Almost in an act of defiance, you kept your bottom lip locked between your teeth, as if needing to try and silence any sounds that might break free. Your thighs trembled, not even trying to still the squirm of your hips as you inched  _ so close _ . Your senses were plenty overwhelmed by standing at the precipice, and you thought that  _ maybe _ you might be able to free of these thoughts,  _ these feelings _ , a reprieve from remembering those damned brown eyes that returned every ounce of love that you handed him for just a moment.

The absolutely  _ inhuman _ speed at which his arm pumped had managed to drag you upwards so fast that when his thumb finally found itself circling over your clit, you were done for. Your back arched off the the table as it the orgasm bowled you over, your eyes clenched shut and lip curled upwards. The rapid clenching around his fingers seemed to try and keep his fingers  _ right there _ , as if it could keep this going longer. 

Too late did you realize you  _ had _ screamed his name.

You dug the heel of your palms into your eyes, not wanting to risk seeing the lie between your thighs staring at you. He probably just  _ pitied _ you, if he felt anything, and your mind managed to conjure up what it looked like. You sure as hell didn’t have it in you to confirm it as you noticed the hands over your eyes were wet.

The RK900 slowly pulled his fingers from you and gave you just long enough to come off the endorphin high before he had jerked you up. He had you flipped to your front and pinned against the table, the edge of it digging hard into your hips already as your still trembling legs tried to find purchase on the floor behind you.

You could swear that your ribs would collapse in on themselves as you struggled to not downright weep. The hand that had just brought you so high now held you down, still wet fingers tangled in your hair as he pressed your cheek into the warmed metal, sure to make sure you were facing the mirror.

_ He wanted you to watch _ .

The act of cruelty of making you observe a situation you put yourself into. A sob caught in your throat as you felt him align himself himself. From the moment his hips pushed forward, he set a hard pace. It wasn’t  _ fast _ , but each steady thrust slammed your already bruised hips into the hard edge of the table. Each one was a point he was trying to hammer away into your head.

_ You’re pathetic. _

_ His body probably isn’t even disposed of yet. _

_ You couldn’t have loved him. Why else would you let someone you so clearly hate touch you like this? _

_ The same someone that was the reason he was gone. _

You didn’t even try to stop the wail that tore it’s way out of your chest, sounding more like a war widow throwing herself on the casket than someone getting fucked in the basement of their work. 

_ Just like you had wanted. _

As much as you wanted to, needed to close your eyes, you were fixated on the image reflected back at you. You looked  _ disgusting _ , even if the context didn’t exist. You were clearly a mess of mourning, eyes red and puffy, snot smeared above your lip.

And man behind you was worse than a ghost.

Each hard thrust was in no rush to bring you to another peak. You ignored the way your already traumatized hips screamed with every movement, trying your hardest to bury yourself in memories that weren’t even bittersweet yet. They just felt like barbed wire.

_ The first time you had taken Connor to the river that only had regular repeats because he was fascinated by all the birds. He just wanted to feed them, he insisted as he lead you along to purchase a very specific food for them, coming up with some overly elaborate explanation of how what most people gave them wasn’t healthy, but they had become too reliant on humans in this area. _

_ When you showed him the neighborhood you grew up in, and the somber expression at finding out your old house had been torn down earning you a hug that probably lasted too long, but honestly, neither of you had wanted to let go. _

_ He had always practically dragged you to dog parks when you were near one and didn’t have anywhere else you needed to be. It was rare you ever saw his eyes light up in the way they did when dogs wanted to play with their new android friend. _

_ He never needed the beanie you had bought him, but any time you guys were out and the weather was anything but perfect, he wore it anyway. He eventually admitted to always keeping it in his jacket. _

_ The night after you made love for the first time, he admitted all his fears that he had become deviant. How else could he be feeling these things? How could he even be questioning his orders? Before you dozed off, he said he would accomplish his mission, anyway. He had to, to be able to stay around with you. _

Too distracted by nostalgia, you were hit with your second orgasm out of nowhere, a strangled noise rising from your throat resembling his name once more. You’d been ripped out of memory lane just as Connor had been ripped from you.

You were left in a daze as the RK900 pulled away from you, never having even came himself. Somewhere in the new numbness you found yourself in, he had redressed your lower half and left, only to bring back a DPD sweatshirt that he left folded near your head. Your breathing had long settled, but you questioned if your heart was still beating as you continued to rely on the table to keep you off the floor.

The android didn’t say a word as he finally walked out of the room, leaving you behind to gather yourself up at your own pace.

For the first time since you were told of Connor’s fate, your mind was blissfully blank. You weren’t lost in memories, you weren’t wallowing in self pity. As far as you were concerned, nothing beyond this room existed.

Maybe your sins were cathartic after all.


End file.
